


Of High School and Teen Angst

by Mysticpooman



Series: Learning what love is (with you) [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: ?? maybe?? idk yet??, Alternate Universe - High School, First Love, Fluff, I don't know what I'm doing, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, MinSung AU, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn, because we all need minsung fluff, first fic, minsung - Freeform, uhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-09-28 22:52:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17191778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysticpooman/pseuds/Mysticpooman
Summary: Life was fine for Jisung just the way it was. He had a daily routine he knew by heart, good grades most kids would be envious of, and he had finally found a quiet place in the back of the library for him to read in peace. But Jisung always had to find a way to ruin his peace and so when his curiosity gets the better of him and he ends up becoming friends with the cutest boy in school, he learns that there was still a lot he didn’t know about himself.Example one: maybe he wasn’t as straight as he originally thought.AKA: A High School Minsung AU in which Minho is a panicked gay and Jisung is a gay in denial or two idiots learning what love is.





	1. The Boy in the Reject Book Room

**Author's Note:**

> Hiii. 
> 
> So this is my first fanfic ever and I probably wouldn't have done this except for the fact that I really had fun writing this? N E ways. This was not read by any person other than me so expect to be shite. PLeAse tell me what I can fix or give me tips to make my writing more fluid because I want to become a much better writer. Much thsnks
> 
> !!!!!Warning!!!!  
> There is going to be swearing in this fic so if you're not into that,,, sorry.  
> Also there is a mention of suicide in this chapter, it's nothing big (like,, at all) but be careful and remember to take care of yourself if you're sensitive to that

 

 

 

 

Han Jisung was a force to be dealt with. Word on the street was that he was part of a gang, a really dangerous one at that. According to the rumors, Jisung had been expelled from 3 schools this year alone and that was the reason he was transferring to a school in the middle of nowhere, Korea in the middle of the first semester. He had "stabbed his enemy" is what someone claimed while the friend beside them swore that they saw him and the science teacher doing "unspeakable" things. Another source said he had beaten up 3 kids up by himself, landing two of them in the hospital. All of this brought a smile to Han Jisung's face as he carried himself with grandiloquence through his new high school, announcing his presence to the straggling eyes while he kept his chin high and eyes looking forward, placing one step in front of the oth-

  
Of course, that illusion came to an end when someone, very rudely by the way, harshly bumped into his left shoulder making him drop his two new books he had just checked out the day before. He sighed. That snapped Jisung out of his trance and brought the sad reality crashing down on him. The truth was, none of those rumors were true; In fact, nobody was saying them in the first place. Jisung was actually a nobody. He had moved to his new high school during mid-semester testing and so he lost his chances at making any new friends, seeing as how everyone was more preoccupied with their grades rather than making friends.

 

But that was okay.

  
He was used to moving every few months due to his father's job. Sure, it was lonely sometimes and almost unbearable some others but he learned to have fun by himself. It was peaceful and quiet and gave him the time to discover himself without the pressure of pleasing others.

  
Jisung, for example, discovered he was into books. Like, reaallly into them. Now he wouldn't call himself a bookworm per say, but yeah, that's technically what he was. To Jisung, every book was an escape from reality. It was an opportunity to head into a different universe where rules didn't exist and if they did, didn't have to be followed. He read a little bit of everything, mostly horror and dystopian books but also romance or philosophy if he felt like spicing things up.

  
Yeah... It was sad.

  
So Jisung, sighing again, picked up his books from the ground beside him, dusting them off, and continued walking through the maze of hallways headed to the place he had been seeking shelter for the past month now: the library.

  
The library was wide with the first floor of the two story tall building completely visible. It had light filtering through the massive windows next to the check out desk positioned in the left-most corner that reminded Jisung of the way you'd see the light filter through a church's windows. The walls were homely, made out of sand-colored wood that rose up to the tall ceiling to which a modern looking chandelier hung from. Rows beside rows of book cases adorned the room, offering the variety Jisung was looking for. To the left, closest to the checkout and the librarian was the non fiction section, full of poetry, autobiographies, magazines and other boring stuff. Next was the mystery/horror books, then the romance, followed by the dystopian, the language other than Korean books, the textbooks and finally the manga and comics.

 

At this time, the library was bustling with life, full of students, lunch being the busiest time of the day for the students rushing to print out their essays due next class period, the groups that would come for a place to sit and talk, and the select few who would actually sit quietly and read.

  
Muttering a quick curse under his breath, he made his way through the library through the crowd of people sitting in the bean bags and chairs provided by the school to encourage reading. 'That worked wonders, obviously', he thought to himself with an eye roll as be passed by a group of students obnoxiously laughing and oh! what a surprise, not reading.

  
No one paid him any attention as he quietly walked to the furthest right corner of the library and came to a halt in front of the tallest bookcase on the floor.

 

The spot was crammed hidden behind the comic and manga bookshelves of the library creating a small doorless room; it wasn't particularly hidden, but secluded enough to where no one bothered sitting there.

 

Said bookcase was 2 times taller than Jisung and made out of the most beautiful red mahogany wood he ever saw. There were 8 shelves total, each with an intricate gold carving along the edge and old, dusty encyclopedias dating back to 1921 filling them from top to bottom. The books looked untouched for years with the exception of the 1993 encyclopedia Jisung had skimmed through first time he discovered and sat in that secret corner. The bookshelf wasn't only pretty, no. It was gorgeous, breathtaking, and everything Jisung needed to read peacefully.

  
He'd been sitting against the bookshelf for a few weeks now, switching between reading whichever book he picked for the day, doing homework, or studying for his classes (usually Chemistry, and he hated every moment of it). It wasn't completely quiet, the chatter of the students carrying through the whole first floor, but it was enough for him; it was the quietest spot in the whole school. That was until he discovered **the** spot.

  
He found it accidentally. He had been carrying on with his every day routine: waking up, going to school, hating it for 5 class periods, finally going to lunch and to the library for an hour, going to the remaining class periods (a little more bearable), and finally home. It was the same situation that day. He had drifted to the back of the library, this time choosing to study for his Math quiz he had the period after lunch. He was seated against the bookshelf with his legs crossed, his math notebook situated on his lap and the corresponding textbook on the floor in front of him, studying for about 20 minutes when his pen had rolled off his paper and to the edge of the bookshelf. He remembers getting up to pick up the pen when he noticed a light coming through the gap between the bookcase and the wall.

 

The gap wasn't small, it was big enough to fit 2 people side by side and Jisung had definitely noticed it before but he figured it was a way into a worker area, a place out of limits for students like him. That day, however, he noticed the dim light coming through the gap, illuminating what would usually be hidden in the darkness.

 

Jisung gasped.

 

The gap in the wall didn't stretch back in the form of a hallway like he originally thought. Instead, to the right of the opening, directly behind the bookshelf, was the beginning of a wooden staircase leading to a now open door - _the source of the light_ , he remembered thinking.

  
Jisung wasn't sure what came over him that day but he quietly made his way upstairs, but not before looking around to make sure no one saw (no one was). The steps creaked under his weight as the chatter of the students died down and he tiptoed up and through the door.

  
What Jisung saw before him left him speechless. The second floor of the library was completely void of people and stretched out in front of him. It was considerably smaller than the first floor, more like a book room rather than a continuation of the library. In there, there were three main bookshelves, similar to the one on the first floor, completely covering three of the four walls and shorter bookcases running horizontally in front of Jisung all which were full of books. There were no labels for genres on the bookshelves, giving the impression of a storage room and he noticed the heaps of books on the floor waiting to be placed in their respective place. The thing that really caught Jisung's eye though, was the wall directly in front of him, the only one without its own bookshelf. His breath got stuck in his throat.

  
In front of him, centered in the middle, was an enormous window covering roughly half of the wall. And, _wow_ , it was beautiful. The window had a total of 8 panels with wine red curtains framing it and, _god_ , the view; through the window Jisung could see the snowy mountains that surrounded the school stretching out for what seemed like kilometers. They stood tall and unmoving, the cars driving on the roads looking like tiny ants. Jisung almost cried at the sight.

  
(Yea thinking back at the memory, he realized maybe it wasn't _that_ big of a deal).

 

So there he was today, in front of the encyclopedia bookshelf ready to sneak back up stairs. He wasn't a total idiot, he knew that area was most likely restricted - the door being closed after that day an indication of that - so he played it safe for a week, only going up for 5 minutes to see if anybody was there. If there was, he would just say he was lost, blame it on his recent transition to the school, apologize, go down, and not go up anymore. Perfect plan. However, for the whole week, not one person other than him visited the room - at least not during lunch time. Which brings him to today; Today should be no different, and maybe he'd finally be able to stay there the whole hour.

  
With that considered he quickly checked no one was looking (no one again) and he made his way up to the book room. The staircase, now lacking the light filtering through the open door, was dark and Jisung would not have been as courageous as to go up in the dark had it not been for the precious jewel hidden behind the door. His hands flat to the wall to guide him safely up the stairs felt the change in texture, meaning he had finally reached the door. He released the breath he didn't even remember holding in as he turned the knob, opening the door and being momentarily blinded by the sudden change in lighting.

Once his eyes adjusted, he was met with the familiar sight and chuckled to himself as he adjusted his books still on his arms. 'No one here', he thought. Today was the day he'd finally be able to spend his whole hour of lunch in complete silence. Maneuvering through the random clutters of books littered on the floor, he walked towards the back of the room to the Great Window (as he decided to name it). Once there he set down his books and way-to-heavy backpack choosing to sit down as well.

He could get used to this, he thought. Up here, there was no more annoying background noise, just Jisung to himself. It was the new set-up, he could do anything he wanted up here and no one would know. Eating wasn't technically allowed downstairs - obviously kids did it anyways - but up here, he could eat a whole cow and no one would notice. He giggled at the thought waving it away with his hand. More realistically speaking he could read and study up here for quizzes and...

 

Wait...

 

  
  
Fuck.

 

 

The Math quiz.

 

  
  
Smacking himself on the head he hurriedly got his Precalculus textbook from his backpack and set it in front of him. How could he have been so stupid? In his excitement from his new books yesterday, he had totally forgotten about the freaking trigonometry quiz. Muttering several curses under his breath he opened his book and, why did he have so much trouble opening to the right freaking page when you freaking needed it the mo-

  
"You know students aren't allowed up here right?"

 

A voice brought Jisung's body to a halt. He sat there, eyes wide and fixed on his textbook, hand still in the same place.

 

Oh no. Did he get caught? He was sure there was nobody here today. Maybe he imagined the voice in his frenzy to study. Or maybe he did get caught. Either way that voice sounded way too young to belong to a teacher. But who know maybe it did and he was ju-

 

"I know you can hear me y'know. Or are you just going to ignore me?" The voice interjected again.

 

That brought Jisung out of his trance. His head snapped up eyes stopping on the cause of his dilemma and _oh_.

  
_Oh_ _WOw_.

  
_Ohh_ , he thought. God damn that boy was beautiful.

 

In front of him leaning his elbows on the the bookshelf sitting in between Jisung and him was the most stunning looking boy Jisung had ever seen. The man - no, boy - looked no older than he did, wearing a uniform just like his own, except he was wearing sporting a a thin blue line on his collar. _A_ _junior_ , Jisung thought to himself. His eyes roamed up, taking in all of the boy. He had a sharp jawline, jet black fluffy hair cascading just above his straight eyebrows. He had a tall nose bridge with a straight nose and high cheekbones and as Jisung eyes slowly went up his face he was met with a pair of dark black eyes, staring back at him curiously.

  
"Uhh," started Jisung. His throat suddenly felt uncomfortably dry. "I-I didn't...know?"

 

_Great. So much for feigning ignorance._

  
They boy's eyes formed crescents, the corners wrinkling, and he stared at Jisung amused.

  
"Is that a question?"

  
Jisung felt his cheeks burn at that. Of course he wouldn't buy that, he already had all of his stuff laid on the floor in front of him. _Stupid idiot._ But wait, if students weren't allowed to the second floor, why was this hot piece of human here with him?

 

As if he had read his thoughts, handsome boy talked again. "Name's Lee Minho. I'm the library aid. And you are..." Minho trailed off looking at him expectantly.

  
_Right._ Jisung sat straight at that.

 

"My name is Han Jisung. I'm a sophomore and just moved to this school a month ago. I have an older brother and live with my dad. I didn't really mean to break the rules. Im just kinda new and I was just looking for a place to read in peace and oh god I'm so sorry. I just really don't want to go down there with all of the heathens and this place is so beautiful and I love it but it's okay if you want to report me to the principal. I deserve it. And I know I should've never even tried sneaking up here an-"

  
Melodious laughter broke through Jisung's panicked rambling as he sat there shocked. Minho's face was now red from laughing, eyebrows scrunched together and eyes tightly closed. _What_ _the_ _hell_. Why was he laughing this was a serious matter? The laughter slowly died down a bit and Minho calmed down, now wiping away his tears and smiling widely.

 

"Hello, Jisung. Nice to meet you~ You don't have to worry," he said through a chuckle. "I'm not going to report you to the principal"

  
"You're not?" Jisung blurted out, cheeks reddening again, his body threatening to combust out of embarrassment.

  
"No dummy." Minho walked around the bookshelf coming to a stop in front of a very flustered Jisung. "I was just wondering who you might be."

  
Jisung just stared, gaze never leaving the boy now towering before him.

  
"You see" Minho continued, "no one ever comes up here. In fact, I'm pretty sure no one other than the librarian and me know about this place. This place" he looked around, "is the reject book room. It's the room where books we find no longer fit the student's tastes go to. If you want a book from the reject pile - the catalog is downstairs by the way - then you simply ask the librarian and you get it the next day. Of course the librarian, Mrs Park, is kinda old now so the task of going up and down the stairs is left to me, the healthy young boy.

  
Jisung fought back the urge to eye roll, eyes still glued to Minho.

"Which is where you come in. You see I was - very peacefully too - putting this hopeless pile of books" he waved his arm towards the cluttered floor "in their respective spots when suddenly the door is opened by you.

 

Minho smiled. "Now it was kinda odd that you not only walked straight past me to the window but you also made yourself quite comfortable."

  
Jisung grimaced, a small sorry leaving his lips.  


"Also you were totally laughing and making faces to yourself like a weirdo haha"  
  
Jisung turned bright red at that, face falling into his hands. He felt like dying. How the heck had he managed to complete ignore another person in the room? God, he had never felt so humiliated in his life.

  
Quickly shifting to a kneeling position, Jisung hastily started packing up, throwing everything into his backpack. He took it as his cue to leave, obviously already embarrassed enough. He glanced back up at Minho who was staring straight at him, deep in thought. Ignoring the shiver that ran down his arms, he got up from where he was before saying a quick sorry and goodbye.

  
He walked past Minho, eyes glued to the floor, already planning out his suicide (okay maybe not) when he felt a strong tug on his jacket that made him stop walking and almost fall back. He turned around to see a hand clutching his uniform blazer and followed it to its owner where handsome boy was looking at his own hand, visibly surprised by his own actions.

  
Minho's eyes darted to his own and suddenly he realized how close they were. Extremely good looking and beautiful boy ( _really_ _Jisung_?) was only an inch or two taller than he was but it was still enough to where he had to tilt his head a bit up to look at him comfortably. The close proximity enveloped Jisung in a distinct smell of fresh grass and old books and the thought made him blush. Had it really been that long since he'd been near a person?

  
Minho, realizing what he had just done, let go

  
"Sorry uhh..." he scratched the hair behind his ear "you don't have to go if you don't want to. I- I mean"

 

Jisung stared at him blankly

 

"I mean you just said yourself that you hated being out there and you know, I don't mind that much if you stay here as long as you don't bring other people or make a mess"

  
"I won't" Jisung quickly said.

  
Minho offered a soft smile in response. "Then it's settled?"

 

Jisung just stared at the boy in front of him. That sounded... tempting but also kind of suspicious.

 

"Just like that?" he asked warily.

  
Minho smiled a bit wider at that, his confidence growing as he brought his hand down from his ear.

 

"Yeah" he replied. "Unless you want to make a deal"

  
Jisung perked at the statement. _That sounded a lot more believable_. He nodded at Minho as an indication for him to continue. _A deal?_   Was he going to ask him to be his punching bag in exchange for using the room? _gasp_ Or maybe he was secretly a drug dealer and wanted to use Jisung as a name to blame in case he got caught? _No, no, no,_ he thought. He didn't seem like the type to threaten others.

  
Minho struggled to find the right words, "That was…. That was a Precalc textbook, correct? Are you... any good at it?"

  
Jisung stared back waiting for clarification but nodded when he realized he wasn't getting any. Well, he guessed he was good at it, the teacher **had** told him he had the second best grades in the class not too long ago so that should still apply now... right?

  
"Well then... How about you tutor me then? he suggested, offering a smile.

 

_What?_

 

Silence filled the room.

 

Everything seemed to freeze in its place with the only moving thing being the two boys staring at each other, wavering eyes searching each other for anything to release the tension in the room. The air felt light but Jisung’s chest felt too heavy. Too constricted.

 

The sound of the bell ringing cut through their daze, announcing the end of lunch.

 

Jisung blinked, successfully clearing his mind.

 

“I..um… I have to go now actually...so...yeah” he murmured, staring at anything but the boy in front of him. He took a step back, re-adjusting his backpack, turning around, and heading straight for the door.

 

“Ah wait!” he heard Minho shout as he walked away. He turned to face the boy still stuck on the same spot. “I’m here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday during lunch and every Tuesday and Thursday after school if you ever want to, y’know, take me up on that deal”

 

He nodded, another okay escaping his lips, turning around again and rushing to the door.

 

“Oh! And Jisung!”

 

He turned again, slightly annoyed. _W_ _hat did he want now?_

 

Minho put his hands in his pockets and offered the most shit-eating grin Jisung had seen in a while.

 

“Say hi to your dad for me will you?”

 

And with that Jisung was gone, rushing down the stairs (not before slamming the door behind him, of course) and almost tripping in the process. He was met with the first floor of the now empty library, a scoff leaving his lips as he processed what just happened. He turned to glare at the bookshelf

 

_This is all your fault_


	2. The Boy and the Bad Study Dates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wazzup I'm back.
> 
> I'm kinda nervous rn ngl. It's 1:27 and I guess I should look over this one more time but yolo am i rite ladies.  
> Please don't be afraid to comment, I'm nice and I don't bite usually.
> 
> BIG WARNING!!!!!!  
> In case you hadn't noticed, there will be swearing in this fic...like... lots of it
> 
> Anyways, sorry for my messy rambling.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!

 

 

 

Jisung was done.

 

He dragged his hands roughly down his face, leaving an angry trail of red and he glanced up at the tall ceiling - the roar of laughter, yelling, and other uncomfortable noises threatening to push him off the edge. A harsh nudge pushed him against the table he was sitting at, somebody ‘accidentally’ bumping into him as they walked past, not even offering a simple “my bad.”

 

He sighed and closed the book sitting on the table in front of him, resting his head on his hands.

 

_This is going nowhere_.

 

He had checked out the book just two days before and usually, he would’ve finished the book by now. But circumstances were different this time. Instead of the quiet place he had gotten used to already, he was seated in the noisiest place in the whole school.

 

Where was he right now you ask? Well, he’ll tell you where he wasn’t at: the library.

 

It just wasn’t fair. He had finally found the perfect spot to read and be away from all the terrible people this particular school seemed to be infested with, and then his stupid curiosity had to go and ruin it.

 

I mean, yeah, he could always go back to the library to the usual bookshelf spot and ignore anything had ever happened, but that meant that the chances of encounter Lee Minho would exponentially increase, and he was most definitely not ready for another meeting with that kid.

 

Everything about their fateful encounter felt wrong to Jisung. He had felt bare, almost as if he had been naked with his heart on full display for Minho too see. He had embarrassed himself in front of a kid he didn’t even know, all because he failed to maintain his composure. **And,** he was teased, and if there was one thing that Jisung hated more than people themselves, was cocky people.

 

Lee Minho seemed to be one of those people

 

(Also he was late to Math class that day and totally bombed the quiz. But whatever. It’s not like he was mad or anything.)

 

However, currently sitting in the cafeteria, in front of two kids very passionately playing Yu-Gi-Oh!, he felt oh so tired. He had been purposefully avoiding the library for two weeks now, only entering to look for any new books that caught his eye, checking them out, and blasting off, not taking any chances to see _him_ again. And sure, the first three days or so were fine, but his patience was running out. And quick.

 

In fact, he had tried going anywhere **but** the library.

 

At first, Jisung decided that the cafeteria didn’t sound so bad after all, so he decided to give it a try.

 

Terrible idea.

 

Jisung’s 5th period, the class before lunch, was unfortunately in the furthest extremity of the school so by the time he had gotten there, most of the seats were taken with the exception of the random empty seat between the groups of people. He walked through the rows of people, books held tightly against his chest, looking for any empty seat until he finally found a table with only three people taking up four of the six chairs available. Two of the kids were horsing around, seeing who could lean back the furthest without falling, one of them eventually falling down causing the other one to die of laughter and harshly slap the table in front of him. The other kid was very comfortably sprawled over two chairs, snoring loudly as drool dribbled down his chin. He remembers mustering up all of his courage, pulling up his best people skills and nicely asking if he could take the extra spot, only to receive a quick glance from one of them. Then they looked away...

 

He took that as a yes.

 

Sitting in the cafeteria was fine for a bit. It’s not like he had never been around people in his entire life; all he had to do was grow accustomed to it once more and learn to drown the noise. And that’s the way it was for three days, with Jisung reading a new book about cloud formation and extreme weather, but on the fourth day, all hell broke loose inside the cafeteria.

 

He wasn’t sure how it started, too preoccupied with the book to notice the piece of food flying over his head and landing on it’s target across the cafeteria. He did notice however, the random splutter of ketchup that moments later landed on his hand and on half of his book’s open page. With that he looked up quickly, fearing the worst, but it was much too late. Jisung had read about food fights more than once, but he never expected for people to be so immature as to start one in real life. He felt his life flash before his eyes. The cafeteria was in total chaos, pieces of lunches being thrown from one extremity to the other, students yelling and running past each other, using their jackets to shield themselves from incoming attacks. Teachers quickly rushed to the scene, trying and failing miserably at controlling the public as Jisung quickly got up to run away.

 

Shielding his book inside his blazer he rushed through the rows of kids, body slumped to low to avoid the flying pizzas. Then it happened. He felt a strong thud of something colliding against his head at the same time his shoe came into contact with something soft ( _ew was that mashed potatoes?_ ), sole of his right shoe slipping against the floor and splitting his legs apart. His hands flew up in an effort to catch himself, wildly flinging in front of him and making his book fly off in front of him. Next thing he knew, he was on the floor of the cafeteria, staring up at the ceiling as he watched the food fly by above him.

 

He found that night that food stains were a pain to remove from clothes and he had never been more grateful his dad had bought him two extra uniforms.

 

Second, Jisung decided he’d just sit on a random hallway, and eat there.

 

_That’d be quiet enough_ , he thought.

 

So he walked towards his Math class, thinking that the closer he was to his next class, the easier his transition from lunch to there would be. He chose to sit in the small hallway intersection that divided the Math and Arts sections of the building, leaning against the wall and choosing to eat his sandwich that day.

 

He unwrapped his food from the cellophane wrapper taking his first bite of the chicken filled sandwich. Everything was fine, he was eating peacefully for a few minutes, staring off into space and contemplating life. But then he heard them.

 

It was hushed whispers he heard at first coming from the other side of the wall. Then he heard muttering, the giggles, and finally the wet sound of lips smacking and moan that made its way across the corner and into Jisung’s ear.

 

He froze, mouth open his hands mid-air still around his sandwich. _This is not happening_

 

He felt his face redden at the thought of what the kids next to him were doing.

 

The gods seemed to no be on his side that day either, he thought when he heard a voice cut through his thoughts.

 

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?” the voice screeched. Jisung slowly looked up to see a very angry looking teacher staring down at the three of them with fury in her eyes.

 

_Oh no. Oh no I’m not with them!_ he explained inside his head, voice struggling to come out of his open mouth.

 

“Ah teacher. We were just having some fun, no need to be so mad~” said the person hidden by the wall.

 

_Don’t say that you idiot, what the hell is wrong with you._

 

This infuriated the teacher even more ordering the three of them to stand up and follow her, Jisung quickly complying. All three of them were then led to the principal’s office.

 

It took several minutes for him to explain that he was in no way part of whatever the other two were doing, and he was let off easily but not before being reprimanded for eating in the hallways for which he claimed to not know (he definitely knew).

 

Third, Jisung discovered that the bathrooms were not a suitable place for reading. Not only did he carry a rancid odor for the rest of the day, Jisung also saw and heard many ‘questionable’ things he wishes he could forget.

 

Lastly, he tried eating outside in the school courtyard. This plan seemed to go a lot smoother, him actually being allowed to eat there and the courtyard being empty due to it being the middle of December, but Jisung hated the cold as much as he hated people so he grudgingly made his way back inside and to the cafeteria. He found his past spot empty ( _thank god_ ) and he let himself fall on the chair, throwing his head back.

 

He felt like screaming.

 

There he was again with his head in his hands, sitting next to the two kids now avidly playing Yu-gi-Oh!. _Was life always this unfair?_ He felt another person bump against his back and something inside of him snapped. He slammed his hands on the table in front of him and stood up, knocking his chair back, the two students in front of him now staring at him with wide eyes as he roughly grabbed his belongings and got the hell out of there.

 

_Fuck this! Fuck those kids. Fuck that teacher, fuck mashed potatoes, fuck Lee Minho, fuck this school, fuck everything. FuCK!_

 

He didn’t notice where he was storming off to, his legs working with muscle memory as he cursed everything and everyone.

 

HIs pace slowed down and Jisung looked up, face falling slack as he realized where he was.

 

In front of him was the encyclopedia bookshelf, sitting calmly in all its glory. 

 

_So much for not coming back here,_ he huffed.

 

He could go back to the cafeteria and suck it up, but that meant being angry every day and he wasn’t sure he wanted that. On the other hand, being upstairs meant being with Minho, and maybe he was finally coming to terms with the fact that he was just very slightly intimidated by him.

 

Contemplating between the two evils, he assertively walked to the gap and up the staircase. He needed this; he needed peace and quiet for one day. _Just one_.

His hand found its way to the door knob, shakily turning it and opening the door for the first time in two weeks.

 

The sudden change in lighting blinded his eyes and he poked his head through the aperture, taking in his surroundings. He was met with the empty silence of the Reject Book Room.

 

_Good! Coast clear._

 

He shifted his body to stand up-right, now walking through the newly formed heaps of books and pausing in front the Great Window - a beautiful sight to sore eyes. The mountains looked the same as last time, still tall and majestic. Jisung smiled.

 

He stretched out his arms in front of him, closing his eyes. _Finally!_

 

Minho didn’t seem to be inside the room at that time, which was odd considering it was Wednesday. Not that Jisung remembered the schedule Minho had given him the other day. Of course not.

 

He bit his lip.

 

Okay, maybe he was kind of looking forward to seeing him again. So what? Sue him. It was okay to think that… right?

 

Yeah, Minho had teased him and Jisung didn’t particularly like being teased, but it didn’t seem like he had bad intentions. Who knows, maybe they could talk or something, and maybe they could even become something more…

 

_Like friends_

 

Jisung blushed at the thought, placing his head on his hands out of embarrassment. What was wrong with him? He was acting like some sort of loner about to talk to the first person other than their dad for the first time in four years…

 

Oh wait.

 

* _click*_

 

Jisung spined around surprised, eyes snapping to the entrance. He thought he’d be alone today. The door behind him opened slowly, revealing a surprised and wide eyed Minho, pile of books in his hands.

 

“Oh?” Minho asked. “You’re back?”

 

_Well, it’s now or never._

 

He offered a smile.

 

“Uh. Yeah… I guess…. it’s uh…. It’s fine if you want me to tutor you. Or whatever. If you’ll let me use this room...” he tried.

“Please.”

 

Minho’s face lit up, mouth turning into a smile, eyes and nose wrinkling and _wow he’ll_ _never get tired of that._

 

“Okay”

 

 

\--------------------

 

 

 

To be honest, Minho just wanted someone to talk to.

 

No, he wasn’t a complete loner, he had one and a half friends he saw every now and then... but for the most part, he was by himself.

 

He had to admit: it was kind of his fault. You see, In his few years of high school, he learned that people were more shallow than they seemed, stuck on the new trends and what was popular. He had no problem with that, really, it just turned into a problem when people tried to push those illusions on him. Minho knew he was at least a bit attractive (otherwise people wouldn’t stare and come up to him so much right?). The problem came to be that too many people had approached and given him the false impression of a new friendship, and when Minho finally felt comfortable enough to show his true personality, they decided he was ‘too weird’ and cut him off. They felt let down at the fact that he wasn’t superficial like them. Not once did anyone try to understand his train of thought and so he backed himself away from everyone, spending more and more time by himself in the library. By the time he had realized it, he was all alone.

And sure, people still talked to him in class and in the hallways, but it was the meaningless conversations that someone starts when they need a favor or need to make themselves look better.

 

Minho wasn’t about that life.

 

To remedy his slightly lonely heart, he spent most of his days in the library, his only other company being Mrs. Park, an old lady of 66 years that was too stubborn to retire. Minho appreciated her, she was the one who gave him access to the book room upstairs one day last year when he had been in a particularly bad shape mentally. She was kind and understanding, and Minho was convinced that she was only a good listener because her hearing was deteriorating and couldn’t hear him half of the time, but he respected her nonetheless. So he decided to pay back her kindness by becoming library aid his junior year, running errands for her such as cleaning the mess students left after lunch, running for books, and organizing the room upstairs.

 

Minho wasn’t an avid reader, though, don’t get confused. He hated reading; he was way too impatient with the way things seemed to move to slowly and way too dramatically. If you were to ask for his preference he’d say he liked reading manhwa and webtoons much more. Those were a lot more aloof, a little more like him.

 

He didn’t particularly hate his lifestyle, he just thought it needed a few tweaks here and there, so he honestly surprised himself the day he met Jisung.

 

_Han Jisung_ came into his life as randomly as how he entered the room upstairs. He vividly remembers laying on the floor surrounded by the books he was supposed to be organizing when he heard the familiar creak of the door opening. He looked up to see a kid very suspiciously tip-toeing across the room, looking around wildly as if he was doing something illegal. The kid, obviously a sophomore from the green line running through his uniform collar, sat down in front of the window at the end of the room, smiling like an idiot.

 

A chuckle escaped his lips. When was the last time anybody other than him used this room? He thought to himself.

 

Minho couldn’t help it that day, he ended up teasing the cute sophomore who looked like he was about to cry. But when ‘Jisung’ stood up, ready to run away, he felt his hands move on instinct, grabbing on to the poor kid’s sleeve. His throat felt scratchy and he wanted to run away himself but he wanted him to stay longer. He wanted to talk to him, or maybe he wanted to laugh with him as they talked about meaningless things.

 

He guesses he just wanted a friend.

 

So he let go of his pride and tried to get him to stay, only to be met with awkward silence, a rushed escape, and a empty room with his unanswered question still in the air.

 

He spent the next week a jittery mess, eyes glancing around every two minutes in hope of seeing Jisung come back, but he only saw the sight of the same disrespectful students. He sighed.

 

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but he tried to ignore the feeling of disappointment that sat uncomfortably on his stomach.

 

_So much for being brave_

 

He was fine the week after that, having successfully forgotten his embarrassment from that day,when he entered the second floor room, pile of books still in his hands, and he encountered the same Jisung he thought he had scared away.

 

Ever since then, Jisung warmed up to Minho quickly, and he did the same back.

 

Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday were Jisung days: days where Jisung would spend his time next to the window doing whatever he wanted for the day, whether it be happily reading a new novel, studying as he cursed everything around him, or simply playing games on his phone. During that time Minho would just continue with his aid duties, sometimes popping in and out of the room with new books to be organize or sometimes sitting by Jisung and observing him read through the whole hour. He pulled the funniest faces while reading, Minho would point out laughing, receiving a notebook thrown at him in response.

 

Tuesdays and Thursdays after school were Minho days. He wasn’t quite sure why he decided tutoring would make a good deal seeing how he didn’t really need any help in Math, but he enjoyed the company anyways. The two of them would sit upstairs on the floor next to the Great Window (as he once heard Jisung call it) with their notebooks sprawled out in front of them, the sun warming them up a little more than necessary. It was through these study gatherings that Minho came to know a little more about Jisung and who he was.

 

Jisung’s dad was a consultant for school districts, meaning that he moved from city to city often, sometimes even in the middle of the year. It was because of this that he had apparently lived in Malaysia for a few years, in which he got ahead in his Math curriculum - hence Jisung and him taking the same level course.

 

Jisung also cursed **a lot**. Maybe it was a little too much for Minho’s pure virgin ears (lies), but it was fun to hear the random “this is how you fucking do the problem” or “sorry for my shitty explanations” leaving his lips. Minho would always laugh at that, head thrown back in front of a flustered and apologizing Jisung. He quickly lost his shame though, throwing insults left and right when he got the slightest bit agitated.

 

And lastly, he learned Jisung loved music as much as loved reading books. This one in particular came as more of a surprise to Minho.

 

They were sitting in their usual spots, Jisung flipping through his notebook to find a formula Minho already knew (not that he would tell him that ever) and Minho staring down at whatever the boy was doing in front of him.

 

After two minutes of watching Jisung search with no results, he lay down. His back pressed against the floor with his eyes instantly closing. “I’m tired. Wake me up when you find it,” he said

 

“Yah, get your lazy ass up. We’re not done here” Jisung scoffed in response, stubbornly flipping through the pages of his notebook.

 

Minho rolled over, staring straight at Jisung. “Hm? Is that how you talk to your hyung? I’m hurt”

 

“...whatever”

 

A comfortable silence fell upon the room. Jisung gave up trying to find the stupid formula and lay down as well, staring straight at the ceiling.

 

“Hey Hannie-”

 

“Don’t call me that”

 

“Hey Jisungie, sing me a song”

 

He could hear the gears in Jisung’s head turning, not quite sure what to do before he settled for a solid ‘no’.

 

“Aww please”

 

Jisung sat up, giving him a cocky smirk.

 

“I don’t sing hyung,” he boasted. “I rap”

 

Minho froze. He just stared at him, not knowing what to say. Was he supposed to laugh? Was he kidding? Should he laugh now or would that be too awkward.

 

Jisung stared back, equally frozen on the spot. H felt his neck burn in embarrassment, smirk disappearing as he turned to stare at anything but Minho.

 

“Anyways…” he trailed off, hoping to relieve the obvious tension in the room.

 

“Wait” Minho sat straight up. “Are you serious?”

 

“Of course I’m serious why wouldn’t I be”

 

“Rap for me then”

 

“Hell no I’d rather die”

 

“Aww c’mon”

 

“Fuck off”

 

Minho laughed at that, front teeth on full display and he fell back down to his lying position, eyes on the ceiling once more.

 

“Are you any good at it?”

 

That caught Jisung’s attention.

“Well,” he started. “I can’t say I’m terrible but I definitely need improving you know?”

 

Minho nodded.

 

Jisung continued. “I actually made a song once with one of my past friends-

 

“You have friends?”

 

“But it wasn’t anything much, just a small solo rap I performed for our moms. It’s actually kind of corny now that I mention it. We actually made a promise to become famous one day, the both of us.”

 

Minho smiled.

 

“I get what you mean. I’ve always wanted to perform my dancing on stage one day” he admitted.

 

“You dance?”

 

“Yeah. I’m not really any good at it, but it’s still fun to me. Exhilarating even. But who knows, I don’t even know what I want to do when I grow up.”

 

With that, the conversation died off, another comfortable silence drifting through the room for a while. Minho put his hands under head like a pillow, getting comfortable again.

 

“Hey Minho hyung” Jisung’s small voice said.

 

“Hm?”

 

“If you show me your dancing... I’ll rap for you.”

 

Minho giggled.

 

_“deal”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will I be ending every chapter in italics? who knows
> 
> I hope this chapter didn't seem rushed, I kinda want to center this fanfic over the romance portion of their relationship a bit more rather than the formation of their friendship,,, so,,, sorry if u didn't like it.
> 
> Also I have no actual scheduling for this fanfic I'm sort of just making things up as I go.
> 
> Alrighty then. Goodnight!!


	3. The Boy and Stomach Problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhhh,,,,,, so I totally didn't update this for three months... oops? This chapter was low-key hard to write and its only until right now at 3:32 am that I actually got the inspiration to finish this.......

 

 

 

“No you don’t understand Chan hyung, he’s actually really cool!! Like, its comfortable to just be sitting by him! _And,_ he doesn’t bother me when I’m reading - which is pretty cool or whatever.”

 

“That sounds good Jisung!” he heard Chan’s static voice through his phone. “I’m happy you finally got a friend.”

 

He was currently sitting on his bed with his phone pressed against his ear, talking to Chan excitedly. They were happily catching up, talking about recent events when Jisung brought up his meeting with Minho. Chan was, of course, pleasantly surprised at the news; he knew very well Jisung was one of the toughest people to befriend. And he was happy for Jisung himself.Jisung finally trusted somebody other than him- but who knew, maybe Jisung wasn’t as antisocial as before. After all, they hadn’t seen each other in a little over 4 years. Anything could happen in that time.

 

Jisung bit back a smile.

 

“I’m not sure I would call us friends yet,” he said. “I only ever see him at school. I think he’s just a nice person.”

 

He heard shifting on the other line of the call and silenced muttering. He caught something along the lines of ‘move you big oaf’ and a grunt of pain. Then Chan’s voice came back. “Well, if you want to see him more just go hang out somewhere. Go build a snowman or something. Or actually” more shifting, “just ask for his phone number.”

 

“Whaaat? We’re not that close yet.” Jisung laughed, suddenly feeling shy for no reason. “But who knows, maybe he’d give it to me…” he trailed off. “Is that Woojin hyung with you by the way?”

 

He heard more rustling in the background, he assumes from Chan passing the phone to Woojin, when Woojin’s smooth voice cut through.

 

“HeY Jisung!! It’s been forever! I heard everything! Congrats on making a friend other than Chan haha. Anyways I have to pass the phone back to Chan he’s trying to steal it away. I’lltalktoyoulatergoodluckwithyourfriendkiddo byeeee~~”

 

Jisung chuckled, “Nice talking to you too.”

 

Chan and Jisung met way back in middle school, Chan being in 8th grade and Jisung in 6th. It took some time, but Chan was very stubborn and somehow managed to become his friend. They both bonded over their love of music, composing songs and raps together in the cramped corner of Chan’s small room. They would use his old PC computer, struggling to pick the right harmonies to go with their simple beats. It was fun; he’d definitely be lying if he said he didn't miss it. And after Jisung left, they made it a point to still kept in touch, mostly through their scattered phone calls as to not let their friendship die off. The did make that silly promise to become famous after all.

 

And with Chan came Woojin. Those two were friends before Jisung even met Chan. Woojin was a tall boy with tan honey skin, a contrast to Chan’s vampire pale skin. They had apparently been friends since birth, Woojin always being there for Chan and vice versa; it was pretty cute if he said so himself. Jisung actually wanted to become closer to him because of this reason, but it seemed much harder to do when both of them were so far away from where he was now. Jisung was, however, close enough to talk to him every now and then. That was good enough for now.

 

“But hey,”Chan’s voice snapped him back to the current conversation. “If you really think this friendship is worth investing in, then just go for it? I mean, assuming from the fact that you spend basically everyday with him, he must enjoy your company as well.”

 

Jisung gigged at that. Okay, maybe Chan was right.

 

Unlike what he originally thought, Minho wasn’t like those cocky and insufferable people. Like...at all. He was actually quite the opposite.

 

If he had to describe Minho, he'd say he was like a much needed breath of fresh air. _Kind of like febreeze,_ he thought. He felt so light when he was with him, almost as if he was floating on cloud nine with absolutely no worries to bring him down. He found himself smiling and laughing a lot more - even cracking jokes himself every now and then.

 

And not only that, he felt comfortable enough to remove his filter around him, cursing like there's no tomorrow. Okay, so _maybe_ he had a bit of a potty mouth. Sue him. It didn't help, however, that everytime he let a curse word 'slip’ Minho would just light up and beam at him, as if his cursing was the best thing anyone has ever heard.

 

Whatever. It's not like he liked the attention or anything.

 

But to be completely honest, he was sure he didn’t hat it. It felt nice. To be able to be himself that is. It had only been two months since they had officially met but it seemed so... perfect? It would be unreasonable to claim he didn't feel at least a bit apprehensive.

 

It scared him to think that he could get so close to someone in such a short amount of time. Minho was nice to him, he was a good study buddy (if you could call him that), and he was funny - a huge plus in his book. He smelled nice and he looked nice as well, and that made his stomach stir every so often. He just wasn't sure having friends was supposed to feel like that. Maybe if he had more friends he would know.

 

“I don’t know…” he hesitated. “I guess it doesn’t hurt to try.” He lay down on his bed, legs immediately sprawling out to to cover most of the space. “But just between you and me, he invited me to the dance studio he goes to just so he can show me his dancing.”

 

“Oh? That’s pretty cool you didn’t tell me he danced.”

 

“Yea, he does. And ummm…. Well…” He looked up at his roof. “I’m actually gonna rap for him too.”

 

 

“...”

 

 

“wAIT WHAT” Chan suddenly shrieked. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE GOING TO RAP FOR HIM. YOU’VE ONLY EVER RAPPED TO ME AND OUR FAMILIES! WHO THE HELL IS THIS MINHO GUY FOR YOU TO SUDDENLY BE SO BRASH! DO YOU FUCKING LIKE HIM OR SOMETHING. IT TOOK YOU FREAKING FOREVER FOR YOU TO TELL ME YOU EVEN LIKED MUSIC JISUNG WHAT THE HELL. I AM LITERALLY FLYING OVER THERE RIGHT NOW TO BEAT YOUR FUCKING ASS-”

 

“ALRIGHT!!! I GET IT!!! I GET IT!!! STOP FUCKING SCREAMING. I SHOULD’VE NEVER TOLD YOU OH MY GODDD” Jisung sat up, now yelling directly into the phone’s microphone, his ear ringing with the sudden screaming. 

 

“exCUSE ME WHO DO YOU THINK YOU’RE YELLING AT I PRACTICALLY RAISED YOU YOU INCONSIDERATE TWERP JUST WAI-”

 

**_-beep-_ **

 

Jisung hung up before he could finish what he was saying, ear ringing from the sudden noise.

 

“What the hell” he huffed.

 

What was the problem with showing more people his rapping? If anything they could get a new fan or something and their dream of becoming famous would be the tiniest bit closer. Chan should be happy for him. He was doing this for them...

 

Sort of.

 

Not really.

 

He fell back down on his bed, now rolling over to his side, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. His finger hovered over his screen, only now stopping to think at what Chan had said.

 

_And what the hell does he mean I like Minho? Of course I like him, he’s my ‘friend’ now. Why would I choose to rap for him if I didn’t trust him even a bit._

 

He felt excitement bubble up his stomach, but paid it no mind, instead turning off his phone, setting it on his nightstand, and finally settling down for bed.

 

Tomorrow was going to be fun.

 

\-------------------

 

He woke up in a cold sweat that night, his shirt drenched with sweat clinging to his torso. His muscles were tense and he noticed his blanket had fallen off the bed, leaving him bare in the eerily cold room. He felt dizzy, a nauseating feeling creeping over his body.

 

 _A_ _nightmare_.

 

He rolled over, sweat matting his hair against his forehead, and checked his phone.

 

_4:38 AM. Great. Just great_

 

With a groan he shuffled from his bed and into his kitchen, blindly feeling around for the light switch. His throat felt way too scratchy and dry- not the best feeling at the crack of dawn. Opening the fridge and getting a bottle of water, he walked back to his room plopping back down on his bed.

 

Minho and him had decided to meet up at ten that morning, so he could always squeeze in a few extra hours of sleep. However, that didn’t seem to be a possibility with how awake he felt at the moment. He chugged some of the water, a trickle escaping his lips and dribbling down his chin.

 

When was the last time he even had a nightmare?

 

He didn’t remember much of what happened, but more of the feeling it gave him. He just remembers seeing a tousle of black hair and a person? _Was that a person?_ If so, he doesn’t really remember who, the face seems blurry in his memory. Then they got closer. And closer. And closer. And he felt like he was falling down a dark hole. He kept falling, and falling, and suddenly something grabbed him and he felt like he was burning. He felt a hand on his face, a hand grabbing his wrist, and a light touch on his neck all leaving trail of flames where they touched. He couldn’t breathe, he kept gasping and screaming but he couldn’t move. He was just falling. And then it was him. Alone.

 

Then he woke up.

 

He tsked, ruffling his hair. _Whatever_. _It’s probably nothing._

 

He got up from his bed and made his way to the restroom, already stripping himself of his clothes and turning the shower on. He felt disgusting and he was not about to meet Minho smelling like nightmare sweat. Stepping into the bathtub, he felt the sharp pins of the cold water against his skin. He hissed, hand quickly turning the knob to a more reasonable temperature, the water quickly turning warmer. He relaxed, the feeling of lukewarm water enveloping him, and so he just stood there for a few minutes, appreciating the warm and silent feeling.

 

Yeah. He could get used to this.

 

After what was several minutes, he got out of the shower, throwing on a random hoodie and black jeans and laying down on his couch before checking the time.

 

He sighed. _Barely 5:12._

 

Jisung lay there, his head resting against his arm as he stared at the ceiling fan turing above him. Before he realized, sleepiness came over him and he felt himself slowly drift into unconsciousness.

 

\--------------------

 

The next time Jisung woke up was to the annoying beeping of his alarm indicating it was time for him to get ready. He got up from his place on the couch, stretching his arms over his head and craning his now stiff neck. Checking the time ( _9:22. Good)_ he quickly got ready, gathering his belongings and finally making his way out the door and towards the school.

 

The walk from his apartment to the school wasn’t very far, 20 minutes give or take, and soon enough he was met with the familiar entrance of Gaeon High School. It felt empty; Not only was it the middle of winter, Minho and Jisung had decided on meeting up at school on a Sunday, so the school entrance that would usually be bustling with the obnoxious sounds from students was now still and quiet. He realized Minho was still not there.

 

Jisung blew hot air into his hands in an attempt to stay warm, his nose now pink and sniffling from the walk there. He scanned the area, choosing to find a random oak tree and trudging over to sit underneath it. _He could’ve been at home at this time_ , he thought to himself with a pout. Instead there he was, waiting for his friend -was it okay for Jisung to call him that? He really needed to know- to show up and dance for him.

 

Okay, that sounded a little weird to say. He bit his lip, the uneasy feeling from dawn creeping back on him, as he stared down the road that led to the school.

 

_This was good thing right? Making a friend was good… right?_

 

The shape of a silhouette cut Jisung’s train of thought, Minho appearing from the horizon running straight toward the school entrance. He slowed down to a jog when he noticed Jisung, eyes widening for a quick second before heading to his direction. Jisung sat still and simply looked up to the panting Minho in front of him, taking in the sight of him. He was wearing simple black joggers and a black hoodie, his usually straight and neat hair now disheveled by what he assumed was the wind. It was a very casual look, a totally different side of him to the usual uniform he wore.

 

Minho hunched over, eyes screwed shut and beads of sweat clinging to his forehead.

 

“Im-” he started through labored breathing, “I’m sorry.” He fell to his knees and then plopped down on the grass face down beside Jisung, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

 

Jisung hummed in response. “What for? I wasn’t waiting much.”

 

He watched as Minho turned to face the sky, breath now calming down to short puffs of hair. It was clearly evident he had run all the way from his house, his messy hair cascading over his red face. His hair looked… so fluffy.

 

He giggled. _How cute._

 

A sudden urge to reach over and run his finger through the locks of hair came over him. His hand twitched, fingers stretching as his hand made its way up from where it was resting. _Wait_. What the hell was he thinking of doing. He quickly brought his hand down to his side, opting for staring at anything else instead.

 

“Sorry.” he heard Minho say again. “I was walking out the house this morning, y’know, ready to come here, when my freaking cat sped past me through the door and started running down the street. And yea that wouldn’t be too bad except for the fact that she’s a house cat. She knows nothing about feeding herself, or being in the wild, or even coming back to the house. So I had to close the door behind me first to make sure my _other_ cat wouldn’t run off as well, before running after her. However, she ended up climbing a tree in front of a neighbor’s house and, well, I’m not exactly a tree climbing master, so bringing her down was more than a struggle. Anyway, my neighbor caught me trying to climb his tree like a weirdo and almost called the cops on me while I frantically explained the situation to him. Long story short, my neighbor ended up having to get a rake to poke her so she’d come down and when she finally did, I caught her andtook her home. I had to put her in time-out before I left and now I am here. So…” he turned his head to face Jisung. “Sorry I was late.”

 

Jisung just stared at him, eyes wide. “That was... a lot.”

 

Minho laughed at that, nodding his head in agreement. He sat up, staring straight him and he offered a lopsided smile. “You wanna go on in now?” He nodded to the doors. “It’s freezing out here”

 

Jisung couldn’t agree more.

 

 

 

 

The walk through the school was uneventful and quiet. They maneuvered through the hallways, Minho leading Jisung to where he assumed was the dance room. They crossed the front office and to the center of the school: the cafeteria. To the left of it was the Science and History wing as well as the courtyard, and to the right was the library. Once they passed the library, they came to an intersection that divided the Math wing and all of the Fine Arts. He shuddered remembering the kissing fiasco that had happened barely two months ago. That was when he was avoiding Minho.

 

_Funny how things change huh._

 

Instead of taking the right side of the intersection to go Jisung’s math class, he trailed behind Minho and to the left and down the Arts hallway instead. This was new territory to him; He felt out of place walking down the increasingly colorful hallway. Trophy cases adorned the walls, some full with actual trophies while others simply showcased what he assumed to be the student’s art pieces. He could hear the sounds of instruments playing towards the end of the hall, softly filling the hallway with a faint melody - _probably the orchestra._ They walked further when Minho suddenly stopped walking, making Jisung almost run into his back.

 

“What the hell-” he started, but Minho simply opened the room he was standing in front of, revealing the school’s dance room.

 

It was a broad room with polished wooden floors and a mirror that took up a whole wall. Jisung stared in awe at the brightly lit room, Minho instantly going to one of the corners with a computer placed on top of what seemed to be a control panel for the speakers.

 

“Don’t worry,” Minho said, busy typing something into the computer. ‘it’s probably only going to be us today. Nobody ever comes here on Sundays.”

 

“Yea I wouldn’t either,” he replied. He looked at Minho, eyebrows raised. “This is your idea of fun? On a Sunday?”

 

Minho turned to face him and smiled. “It helps distract me.”

 

Suddenly the sound of a lo-fi hiphop beat filled the room as Minho walked away from the corner and to the center of the room to face the mirror. He began stretching, first reaching down to touch his toes, stretching in a squat position, then bringing his arms over his head. Jisung remained still, looking at Minho’s arms stretching and his hoodie riding up a bit, showing a sliver of skin and-

 

MInho glanced at Jisung, eyeing him, “You going to join in or are you just going to stare?”

 

He felt his face heat up. He coughed awkwardly, eyes darting to the mirror instead and walked to the center of the room next to Minho. Taking a deep breath, he willed himself to calm down, joining Minho in his exercises instead.

 

They were silent for while, Minho switching position and Jisung doing so as well. The background music was the only thing filling the quiet. He hoped Minho wouldn’t notice the constant glances aimed at him through the mirror.

 

_God, this is awkward._

 

“So. Um” he cleared his throat, “what type of music do you usually dance to?”

 

Minho stood still at that, face contorted into a contemplative expression. “Sexy songs?”

 

Jisung scoffed. “Stop fucking with me. I’m pretty sure that’s not even a genre.” He moved to the mirror, sitting down and facing Minho.

 

“I’m not though?” Minho chuckled in response. “Well, if you want to be more specific, I’d say I dance to a more hip-hop style of dancing.”

 

“Oh, like b-boying.”

 

“Definitely not.” he laughed. He moved back to the computer, Jisung following him with his eyes. “I’ll show you what I mean.” he said while typing something into the search bar. “Just watch.”

 

With that, he made his way back to the back center of the room, the intro to a song enveloping Jisung with its slow beat. Excitement creeped into his stomach and he sat still, watching as Minho began his performance, his composure now completely different from what it was seconds ago.

 

The music definitely sounded more mature than what Jisung would ever listen to in his free time, a dark and heavy melody sounding through the room. The music was at a much slower tempo, heavily focused on the defined syncopated snare beat resonating through Jisungs body. Unknowingly, his head started nodding along with the music, head instinctively following Minho.

 

And Minho’s dancing… _wow_ Minho’s dancing.

 

It started slow, Minho rolling his neck to the slow beat, arms hanging loosely beside him. The first beat came strong, Minho’s head and eyes snapping to stare straight at Jisung. He felt his muscles tense up at the sudden attention, hands instinctively traveling up to clutch the material of his jeans. Then came the second beat, then the third, and then the rest, Minho’s body moving to the rhythm of the music, movements hitting each beat precisely as Jisung stared in awe.

 

It wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen before. It wasn’t the usual electric and energetic dances he’d seen people dancing to online and it definitely wasn’t the b-boying style he had originally thought of. No, it wasn’t anything like that. It was something else, something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. All he knew is that it left an odd feeling inside of him, a feeling so unfamiliar he didn’t quite know what to do.

 

The boy in front of him ran his hand through his hair, head tilted back with his half-lidded eyes, shoulders moving along with the dark noise of the song.

 

_It was almost… enticing?_

 

No. Scratch that.

 

No, it couldn’t be enticing. No, because that would mean Jisung wanted to see more. Except... there wasn’t anything wrong with that. Right? It only meant Minho was a great dancer. He _did_ have very sharp moves and one could tell from the get go that he’s been doing this for a while. That’s all. But then, why did he feel so… so weird.

 

The few minutes suddenly felt like an hours when suddenly the same nauseating feeling from that morning came back with full force.

 

Minho, however, kept dancing, gaze steady on Jisung, clearly unaware of the dilemma happening inside his head. _This was bad._ His face felt hot. His whole body felt hot as they made eye contact, Minho’s hands going to his shirt and dragging them up, revealing the tiniest slip of skin. His breath hitched, hands clutching the fabric of his pants. He doesn’t know when it started, but by the time he noticed, his breaths were short and shallow.

 

After what seemed like forever, the music slowly came to a stop, a sweating Minho holding a slightly dramatic pose in front of a wide eyed Jisung. Silence crept into the room, Minho clearing his throat, bringing Jisung out of his trance.

 

“So,” he scratched the back of his ear. “What’d you think?”

 

“I think I’m going to throw up”

 

“Excuse me-”

 

With that Jisung bolted out of the room, looking for the nearest restroom, leaving a speechless Minho in the center of the room.

 

He wasn’t really sure what happened after that, or how he got to the restroom at all, but the next thing he knew, he was pressed against the door to the boy’s bathroom with his heart threatening to come out of his chest.

 

Moments later he heard a small tentative knock come from behind him.

 

“Is- uh- Is everything okay in there?” Minho asked, worry clearly laced in his voice.

 

He gulped, his adam’s apple bobbing painfully down his dry throat. “I’m- I’m okay hyung,” he squeaked. “I’ll be out in a minute. Just...just don’t come in… please.”

 

He heard shuffling on the other side of the door, Minho contemplating on what to do.

 

“Alright. I’m coming in.”

 

“What? What. Wait. No hyung don’t come i-” His protests were cut short when he felt a strong push against the door. _Curse school bathrooms and having no locks._ He tried pushing back against the door, but Minho’s strength was simply too much compared to his own, the door gap slowly widening enough to let Minho wiggle in. In a last attempt to save his reputation, he fell down into a crouch, face hidden behind his hands.

 

He heard Minho walk in front of him but he couldn’t face him, not when he was so flustered like this. He suddenly felt like crying. This was too new to him, too dangerous.

 

“Jisung are you okay?”

 

He flinched at the sound of his name, shoulders tensing in an attempt to protect himself.

 

“Jisung?” Minho sounded much closer, having crouched down to be at eye level with Jisung. “Hey, at least make me sure you’re okay.”

 

His voice was soft; reassuring. But Jisung couldn’t face him like this. Minho would laugh at him for sure. He shook his head.

 

_Just go away please…_

 

He was acting like a brat and he knew it. He was taking advantage of his kindness and he’d never be able to see Jisung in the same way again and-

 

He felt two warm hands cover his own, fingers curling to hold his own. He stopped breathing. The hands slowly started to tug on his own, trying to separate them from where his face was hidden.

 

“Jisung. Please. Just let me check.”

 

 _No_. He began pulling back, using as much strength as possible to keep them in his place, but once again he was painfully reminded of how much smaller and weaker he was than Minho, his hands forcefully separated to fully reveal his face.

 

Only a few inches away from his was Minho’s own face, his hair still dishevelled from earlier in the morning. His eyebrows were scrunched up in worry but as soon as he took in Jisung his expression morphed into something else. Something he couldn’t quite decipher.

 

“Oh”

 

He didn’t bother staying to look, eyes screwing shut and head bashfully turning to the side to put as much distance between them as possible.

 

“Oh. Oh, okay. Umm… Let’s uhh.” Minho stammered. “It’s okay. Yeah. You’re okay. You’re fine. Ok. Yeah. Let’s just... let’s take you home shall we?”

 

“I think I’m okay” he replied meekly. Last thing he needed was another chance to embarrass himself, something he seemed to be quite good at nowadays.

 

“Well, um, that was a rhetorical question. If you think I’m about to let you pass out or die or something on the way to your house you’re mistaken”

 

 _“Fine”_ He groaned in response, head plopping down on his hands again. “But can you at least wait outside while I wash my face?”

 

“Oh. Yeah.” Minho said. “Sorry”

 

He waited until he heard the soft click of the bathroom door closing before finally getting up and making his way to the sinks. Grabbing one of the sink with both hands, he looked up at the mirror, taking himself in.

 

He looked like a mess. His face was still flushed with a dark shade of pink, his eyes glassy and pupils dilated, and eyebrows ever-so-slightly scrunched up. There was a light sweat starting to condense on his skin, and he just felt so _odd._

 

He quickly turned the faucet on and dipped his head under, finally releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding as the cold water hit his skin. He stayed in that position for a while, letting the water cool down his face. He needed to snap out of it. He hurriedly dried himself with the edge of his jacket and prepared himself to go outside.

 

With a shaky exhale, he finally walked out of the restroom, only to find Minho squatting next to the door, a slight pout decorating his lips while he fiddled his thumbs. Said boy kept the pout until he noticed him, eyes crinkling and a soft smile blossoming on his face instead when he did.

 

“Shall we go home now?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to add more to the end but then the chapter would've been way too long so I decided to cut it here. Also I totally didn't proofread again so hopefully my grammar and syntax wasn't all over the place. 
> 
> Until next time~~


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